


Lessons His Teacher Gave

by 3988Akasha



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) RPF
Genre: BDSM, Gloves, Handcuffs, M/M, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-05
Updated: 2011-09-05
Packaged: 2017-11-27 12:32:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/662041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/3988Akasha/pseuds/3988Akasha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As a follow up to  <a href="http://sjpheartshim.livejournal.com/profile"><img/></a><strong><a href="http://sjpheartshim.livejournal.com/">sjpheartshim</a></strong>'s DD story found <a href="http://mcfassy.livejournal.com/78330.html?thread=2428154#t2428154">here</a> and <a href="http://mcfassy.livejournal.com/78330.html?thread=2431482#t2431482">here</a>, (which if you haven't already read, you should for the context of the story) Michael decides to follow through with his punishment and teach James a lesson they'll never forget.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lessons His Teacher Gave

**Author's Note:**

> This story completely got away from me. It was meant to just be a quick, oooh they had sex thing, but it just kept going. A picture of the handcuffs can be found [here](http://t3.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQ_Ly8h-iq01n9LZ_bk0mbZeBy-1BKYmNs85JH_yEl5lf1qtces).

It was only after James had left, lips obnoxiously red, expression wholly too self-satisfied that Michael realized exactly how reckless their behavior had been. It was still eleven days, six hours and thirteen minutes until James' eighteenth birthday. Of course, the fact that he knew such nuance details had scared him for the first couple of days, but soon, as with most things involving James, he simply shoved it aside and rode blissfully down the river denial.

Michael scrubbed his face before gathering up his papers and shoving them into his arms. He wouldn't be getting anymore grading done today. Or tonight. Maybe that's what caused James to break their pattern, the anticipation of tonight. Three or four nights a week they would meet up at different locations where they were sure to be unseen by someone they knew. It wasn't always about sex, although it usually ended up there. Some nights, they simply laid together in bed watching some film on TV or James would do his homework while Michael graded papers. The important part for both of them was being together, without having to put on a pretense.

Today he stopped by his flat first; there were a few necessary items he'd need for tonight's rendezvous. He smiled to himself as he packed the duffle, fingers lingering lovingly on select items, imagining how they'd feel against James' skin. The thoughts forced him to adjust himself, a wry smile on his lips. With everything packed, he tossed the duffle in the backseat of his car and set out for the hotel. As he drove, he began to map out the night's activities. Tonight, nothing would be left to chance; everything would be tailored to ensure James never forgot about his little indiscretion. One which Michael couldn't allow himself to over think, because if he did, he'd call off their whole relationship; as much as he enjoyed James' company, a bit more than he expected and a lot more than he should, he liked his job and his freedom, too.

Two hours later, he was ready. He glanced at the clock; James had exactly five minutes to walk through that door, or he'd be late. James was never late. Michael resisted the urge to pace, his pent up energy, needed an outlet. With two minutes to spare, Michael heard the electric lock engage a second before James walked into the room.

Michael took a moment to appreciate the way James' face changed. The smug look transformed into an awed submission so fast Michael nearly missed it. He tightened one hand, enjoying the sound of the leather gloves creaking; he enjoyed watching James lick his lips more. He moved towards James, who backed himself against the door, eyes wide, mouth parted. Michael reached up and ran the back of his fingers gently down the side of James' face. James closed his eyes and leaned into the caress.

"Tell me your safeword."

James blinked slowly, as if waking from a dream and Michael nearly groaned aloud, _it was only one touch_.

"Jaws."

Michael smiled. It was how they always entered a scene; it gave James a chance to beg out before things even started. A simple, _I have no safe word,_ and it would be over without a second thought. So far, James had only opted out once, and Michael still felt a surge of anger when he thought about what James had told him that night, not anger towards James, but at the people closest to him.

He forced his thoughts back to the present. "Good. Turn around."

James swallowed and did as he was told. Michael moved in close, almost touching and watched James quiver with anticipation of the first touch. Michael placed his hands on James' hips and brought James' shirt up and over his head before trailing his fingers down James' spine, enjoying the sight of James' back arching.

"I hope you enjoyed your stunt today, James," Michael whispered into James' ear. "I hope it was worth it."

Michael ran his glove-clad hands up James arms, forcing them above his head in the process. He linked their fingers, loving the visual contrast of the black gloves against James' pale skin. Fully covering James' body with his own, Michael moved against James once before latching his teeth onto the delicate skin at James' collarbone. He heard James' breath hitch in a hiss and covered the abused spot with his lips, sucking the skin into his mouth. Beneath him James trembled. Michael slid his hands down James' body before stepping away. He stood and silently watched James; he admired the sight of James' hands above his head, elongating the line of his back, saw how it arched gracefully into his pert, rounded ass.

"Was it worth it, James?" Michael asked.

"Yes, sir."

Michael grinned wolfishly. He enjoyed hearing James' voice, hearing the way it would change as the scene progressed. Titles were simple; in a scene, he was sir, in class he was Mr. Fassbender, and any other time he was Michael.

"I'm glad to hear that, James. Place your hands behind your back."

James lowered his hands and crossed them at the wrists. Michael moved up behind him, leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the base of James' neck, distracting him from the handcuffs in his hands. Michael latched the cuffs to James' right wrist; he heard James' breath catch as the metal enclosed his wrist tightly, before doing the same to the left.

Michael tugged the chain links connecting the cuffs, watching the tension race through James' shoulders, down through his arms before leading James to the bed.

"Bend over and spread your legs."

James did as he was told, movements and balance a bit off due to the handcuffs; Michael licked his lips. Michael kneeled behind James, reached around and undid James' trousers; he pulled them down just enough to expose James' ass. He bent further over James and nipped the skin just above the swell of James' ass before ghosting over the mark with a gloved fingertip. Michael watched the shiver race up James' spine. Michael smiled to himself as he brought his hands up to palm James' ass. Tenderly, he kneaded the muscle, loving the fullness of James' ass, wishing to touch it with his own hand, skin to skin, but knowing this would be better for James, his own desires could wait.

Hands lingering, Michael stood to his feet and moved to James' right side. The bed frame was tall enough that bent over the bed, James' feet barely laid flat on the carpet. Michael appreciated how much younger it made James look. He smoothed his hand across James ass before bringing his hand up then down sharply on the fleshy part of James' ass, savoring the sound of the leather as it snapped against James' skin. Michael rubbed the abused skin gently before repeating the action, this time causing James to cry out, back bowing gracefully, head thrown back, lips parted, eyes closed. Michael brought his hand down again, and again, and again. Each time James' back arched and he made the most enticing sounds in the back of his throat before sagging back against the mattress.

Michael took a moment to examine the results of his efforts; James' ass cheeks were stained a deep rose color and he kept trying to push his ass back, as though seeking out another. James' breathing was shallow and fast.

"How does that feel, James?" Michael asked, mouth close to James' ear.

"Good, sir, so good."

Michael moved back a bit, hand humming and warm from James' skin.

"Stand up."

James stood, legs a bit shaky. Michael placed one hand on James' upper arm to steady him while he used the other to unlock one side of the handcuffs. Briefly, his thumb traced the red marks on his wrists, to which James made an appreciative noise in the back of his throat. Michael helped him step out of his trousers fully.

"Get up on the bed, James, near the head board."

James cast a look over his shoulder before climbing onto the bed. Michael felt the look race through him like fire. The need, the want, the desperation, all of it rolled up in one moment, one look...something he'd never forget. _I've got you, baby. I've got you._ Michael rooted in the duffle until he found the bottle of lube. He gave a sad look to his gloves, glad he'd purchased several pairs, before moving to the head of the bed. He locked the free end of the cuffs to the headboard and handed the bottle of lube to a confused James.

"I want you to open yourself up for me. Open yourself up good because when you're ready I'm going to use these gloves," Michael caressed the side of James' face again, "to fuck you until you come from the feel of my fingers buried deep inside you. That, and nothing else."

 Michael watched the muscles in James' throat work as he swallowed, eyes suddenly wide - with excitement.

"Can you do that for me, James?"

James nodded. "Ye-s, yes, sir."

"That's my boy."

Michael moved to the foot of the bed and sat in a chair he'd moved there earlier, wanting the perfect view. He watched James fumble a bit with the lube, but soon he had generously coated his fingers. When James caught sight of Michael watching him, he froze, eyes wide mouth forming a silent "o". Michael smiled gently, the one he reserved just for James.

"It's okay, baby. I want to see you do this, see how amazing you'll look as you use your fingers to open yourself up for me. The way your face will flush, the noises you'll make. Me sitting here knowing I can't touch you until you tell me I can, sitting here with my want, with my desire, waiting to touch you."

Michael held James' gaze, watched as he gained control of himself and then wondered how he'd manage to sit here without touching James. Every nerve ending in his body was on fire as he watched James scoot up onto his knees before reaching back, struggling to find a workable angle to work his index finger into his hole. Slowly, James worked his index finger in to the first knuckle. After a few tentative thrusts, James found his rhythm; his finger rocking in and out, soon his whole body moved with the motion. Michael heard the clang of the handcuffs against the headboard and pressed the heel of his hand against his crotch. Tonight was about James.

When James inserted a second finger, Michael bit the inside of his mouth as his eyes closed which didn't help because his brain supplied images of James on his knees, under his desk, red lips around his swollen dick - Michael opened his eyes. James seemed lost in the sensation, his body moving in time with his fingers as they worked in an out of his hole, lube dripping down his hand, sweat beading on his back.

After what felt like days to Michael, James pulled his fingers out and looked over his shoulder, eyes locking with Michael.

"I'm ready, sir."

Michael nodded, unable to speak. James' arousal roughened voice grated over his senses like sandpaper. With measured strides, Michael walked to the head of the bed and unhooked the handcuff from the bed frame.

"Give me your hand."

When James offered his hand, Michael moved the chain of the handcuffs around the headboard post before securing James' other wrist, effectively chaining James to the bed. With James on his knees, Michael surveyed the remains of his earlier efforts, James' ass still a pleasing pink color. He reached out and rubbed each cheek, hearing James' mewl.

"Have I told you how amazing you look like this? On your knees, hole open, ready for me? You're stunning."

Michael picked up the tube of lube from where James had left it, coated his finger with a generous amount and, with that, Michael pushed his index finger in, feeling the leather slide smoothly. James had prepared himself well. He felt James stop breathing and stilled his finger. He brought his other hand up to the base of James' back.

"Breathe, James. I need you to breathe for me."

With a stuttering effort, James began to breathe, shallowly at first, but soon it evened out enough for Michael to feel confident enough to continue.

"That's my good boy, James. Keep breathing. Focus on the feel of my finger inside you and breathe with the movement."

Michael pushed his finger the rest of the way in, feeling James breathe with the movement. Slowly, he pulled out, nearly all the way, before pushing back in; Michael repeated this several times, establishing a steady rhythm designed to even out James' breathing. Soon though, it wasn't enough for James who began to push back on Michael's hand, speeding up the pace, increasing the friction.

"Please, sir."

"What do you want, James?"

"M-more, sir."

Michael slowly inserted a second finger, feeling the way it stretched James, hearing the leather rub against itself as he worked both fingers in and out of James. He allowed James to set the pace, watched his fingers disappear inside James. James bowed his back as he pushed back against Michael's fingers; he'd lost all sense of rhythm as he chased his release. Michael curled his fingers and James' entire body shuddered as Michael hit James' prostate. Soon James rocked against Michael's hand with abandon, the cuffs rattled nosily as James moved, heedless of everything but his elusive release.

"Sir, please, sir - I - "

Michael coated another finger in lube and slowly inserted it, adding it to the other two.

"I told you James, if you want to come, you'll do so from the feel of my fingers inside you and nothing more."

James cried out his frustration. Michael repositioned his fingers and began to thrust them in tandem with James' movements. Each time he pushed in, Michael would brush against James' prostate.

"Come for me, baby."

With a few more hard thrusts, Michael felt James' body tighten seconds before, with a cry, James shot his load, staining the hotel pillow. Gently, Michael slid his fingers from James, both of them feeling the loss of the connection. He pressed a gentle kiss to the base of James' spine.

"You did so well tonight, baby."

Michael reached up and removed the handcuffs, feeling the way James trembled in the aftershock of his orgasm. With his teeth, Michael loosened the straps on the leather gloves and tore them from his hands.

"Ssshhh, I've got you," Michael whispered in James' ear, holding him close, running a soothing hand up and down James' arm. When the worst of James' trembling subsided, Michael gently slid from the bed.

"I'll be right back. I've gotta get some stuff to clean you up, okay?"

James nodded slowly.

Michael frowned and didn't move.

"I'll be o-okay."

Quickly, Michael went into the bathroom and soaked a washcloth in warm water, wrung it out, and grabbed the first aid kit on from his duffle on his way back to the bed. He threw the soiled pillow off the bed before settling down, watching James' features carefully as he came back to himself. Michael used the warm washcloth to clean James after which he reached down and retrieved James' boxers. With a soft smile, James pulled them on before settling between Michael's spread legs.

Michael pulled James right arm up so that he could examine the abrasions left by the handcuffs. He'd brought a special pair, wider cuffs, two-toned silver and gold. They looked fantastic against James' skin.

"This will sting a bit, but I have to clean it," Michael told James, voice soft.

James simply snuggled further into Michael. Gently, he swabbed the lightly bleeding cuts with an alcohol swab. Already the skin around the shallow cuts was beginning to purple; it would spread a bit more before it began to heal. Michael brought James wrist up to his mouth, placing a delicate kiss to his inner wrist.

"So beautiful," Michael's voice rumbled through his chest.

He dabbed the abrasions with a special ointment he kept in a jar before wrapping them in gauze. By morning, he'd be able to take the gauze off, the majority of the cut healed. The bruising would take a bit longer, but Michael knew James liked those better, liked it when the physical representation of their time together lasted. Michael helped James to sit up a bit so he could remove his jeans and shirt. James looked at him a bit curiously, eyes still heavy lidded. Normally, they had a bit of a cuddle before one of them left. After a scene, Michael was usually the one to leave, James needing the rest.

He knew it was risky, to break their pattern, but he couldn't bring himself to leave James; not tonight, not after the way James had come apart in his arms. When Michael settled himself under the covers, James' face fell as he turned to crawl from the bed.

"James," Michael called softly, "come here, love."

Michael held the sheet up for James, who after a second of deliberation, slid under the covers and curled up against Michael.

"How are you?"

James moaned lightly and curled his hand around Michael's side. Michael placed a kiss on the top of James' head before tilting his head up so he could see James' eyes.

"I need words, James. How are you?"

"I'm good, Michael. I'm very good."

Michael cupped James' cheek before kissing him lightly. James moved impossibly closer and Michael's hand trailed down his neck around the curve of his shoulder before resting possessively on James' hip. Languidly, Michael pulled his lips away.

"Sleep, love. I'll make you breakfast in the morning."

James smiled broadly. "M'kay."

Michael reached around and turned out the light before settling James against him. As he drifted to sleep, he found he truly enjoyed the feel of James pressed up to him and cursed the remaining eleven days, six hours and thirteen minutes until James' eighteenth birthday.

**~FIN~**


End file.
